


Spin For You

by cecilantro



Series: 100 Days Of Ficlets [6]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 22:37:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13867452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecilantro/pseuds/cecilantro
Summary: For a split second I was air and you were sky and I was lost in you.Caleb Feels.





	Spin For You

**Author's Note:**

> [Inspired By Fall Out Boy "Favorite Record"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WsuN8KDa9i0)

Caleb’s flashback seems like a distant memory even to him when they hop onto the road to Zadash.   
  
He can hear Nott and Jester playing a card game behind him, he knows Beau is perching on the side of the wagon, stretched out and watching for any interruptions. Fjord is on the other side, napping gently against his own arms.   
The cart hits a bump and Beau muffles an exclamation of shock as she’s shot a few inches into the air and lands again, lightly. It’s not more than an inconvenience to her, with her lightning-fast reflexes and almost impeccable balance.   
She looks over at him and catches his eye, so he nods at her, hoping she understands how impressed he is.   
  
(He probably would have fallen under the wheels. Then again, he wouldn’t have been perching on the edge.)   
  
Beau grins at the unspoken compliment, her shoulders pulling back a little with pride, and she turns away to continue watching.   
The late summer sun is warm above them.   
Beside Caleb, Molly has shrugged his coat off, and it currently resides, folded carefully, in the cart with Jester.   
  
Caleb makes the mistake of looking at Mollymauk.   
  
He’s twisted, craning to look at Jester as she pulls her winning card and whoops, proudly. Nott groans and throws herself down to lie flat and stare at the wisps of cloud left in the blue sky.   
Jester catches Molly’s smirk and grins, looking almost guilty, she leans over to pat Nott’s knee.   
  
“It was all sleight of hand, Nott.” Molly calls to her, and Jester pouts dramatically,   
  
“Can you not let me have my win?”   
  
“Mollymauk.” Caleb warns as Molly lets his reins go a little slack and the horse he’s guiding tosses its head.   
  
Molly turns and sits so hard he bounces a little, drawing the reins in and pulling back the smidgen of control he’d let lapse.   
  
“I _adore_ the way you say my name.” Molly tilts his head to watch Caleb’s reaction, and it takes a few moments for the red flush to become visible under the filth. Molly grins, proud of himself, and turns his attention back to the road.   
  
“Fjord.” Beau leaps from the side of the cart with such precise timing that she lands right next to Fjord on the other side, pokes him in the cheek gently, “It’s your turn to watch.”   
  
“A’ight.” Fjord blinks his eyes open and yawns, stretches as Beau moves around him to sit with Jester and Nott. There’s some rocking as Fjord pulls himself up and half-sits, half-leans on the corner of the cart to keep an eye on the surrounding road.   
  
Caleb takes a breath, a snapshot of the second, and for the first split-second in a long time, maybe ever, he feels like nothing will go wrong.   
Not forever, nothing lasts, but right then, he feels… safe.   
Molly’s shoulder bumps his, and Caleb turns a fraction, just enough to watch him out of the corner of his eye. He captures in his heart forever, the golden summer glint on Molly’s hair, the detail of each curl and wave, the way Molly’s jewellery glints as it sways. The tiny upturn of Molly’s lips, the concentration drawn on his face, and the way it melts away when he catches Caleb looking at him.   
  
“You’re not as subtle as you think, Caleb.” He says, low enough that nobody else hears it. Caught, Caleb lets himself laugh a little,   
  
“You got me, I suppose.” And shrugs. Molly bumps his shoulder again, more deliberately this time, and Caleb’s quiet chuckle grows louder. Fractionally.   
  
“I haven’t seen you this calm.” Molly comments, sliding across a little until his thigh is pressed to Caleb’s, he’s desperate for any kind of contact.   
  
Caleb sighs his laughter away contentedly and looks around before answering,   
  
“Everything feels _right_.” He tells Molly, and it’s so accurate, it aches in his chest with a dull pain that’s far more pleasant than being shot, or even the recoil of a spell.   
  
Molly bumps him again, and when he does, Caleb moves closer as though drawn by a magnet.   
  
“You cheated!” Jester’s voice rises high behind them, and they feel the cart rock as she leaps to her feet. Caleb and Molly both turn to look, and see Jester pointing at Nott accusingly, as she and Beau laugh. Beau offers Nott a high five, and she takes it, grinning. Jester’s anger is momentary, and Caleb sees pride shine on her face for Nott’s deceit.   
Molly chuckles, and Caleb feels it reverberate through his own body, and when they turn away from the girls, he joins in.   
And they’re gone, unsure why they’re laughing so hard, perhaps the relief of safety after so much danger, perhaps a nervous reaction to just how _close_ they had all come to death of late.   
The light catches the sharp angle of Mollymauk’s cheekbones when he throws his head back.   
  
Caleb thinks the ache in his chest might kill him.   
  
(He finds he wouldn’t mind at all.)   
  
(Cause of death: Mollymauk Tealeaf)   
  
He takes the leap, into the unknown, and that leap is something as trivial as laying his head on Molly’s shoulder. It’s enough to make his heart stop, he swears he feels it skip several beats, and for a moment he doesn’t feel solid at all.   
Everything is right.   
Molly carefully rests his cheek on the top of Caleb’s head as their laughter dies away.

 

They pull in and set up camp for the night as the light fades away. Caleb sets the fire ablaze with a crackle of magic and only the briefest of concerned, light touches from Mollymauk.   
Nott sits next to him as he tries very deliberately not to look at the fire or the flame.   
  
(The flame being Mollymauk, Gods, he was bright enough.)   
  
Caleb feels her pat his leg gently, and he smiles at her, puts an arm around her shoulders, and squeezes briefly. She leans against him, but moves apart an inch when they finish the motions. Personal space.   
  
Mollymauk catches the distance in Caleb’s eyes and stands, his coat flowing out like waves at sea. He draws his tarot deck from an inside pocket and begins shuffling, talking quietly to the cards, it’s so affectionate that Caleb swears he can feel the honey in Molly’s tongue.   
  
(He’s jealous of a deck of cards. That’s a new one.)   
  
His fingers flash through the deck as he shuffles, he circles the campfire, glancing at each of them in turn. Caleb feels electric when Molly’s eyes meet his for a split second, and he sees the crease of a smile at the corner of his eyes before he turns back to the cards and completes his circle. He shuffles again, quickly, once, then re-commences the circle in the opposite direction. Caleb first.   
  
Mollymauk’s fingers flash, and he pulls a card from the deck and hands it to Caleb.   
  
“The Fool.” He says, despite being obviously unable to see the card. Caleb takes it carefully from him, gentle, he knows how important the cards are to Molly. “New, courageous beginnings, and impulsiveness.” Molly quirks an eyebrow, then moves on to Nott, and Caleb stares at his card.   
  
“The Wheel Of Fortune.” He hands Nott the card, and she takes it gingerly, as though it could cut her like a sword at any moment. He frowns, almost confused in nature, and the meaning rolls off of his tongue instinctively, “Wisdom from experience, unexpected events, and,” he glances to Caleb, “New beginnings, I suppose.” and moves to Beauregard,   
  
“Give it to me, magic man.”   
  
“Not magic, just fate.” Molly smiles, languid, and flicks a card from the deck into the air, catches it neatly between two fingers. He holds it out. “The Chariot. Self-mastery and struggle, willpower, and,” He meets her eyes, “Victory.”   
  
“Fuck yeah.” Beau whispers, studying the card as she takes it from him.   
  
To Fjord, and he makes no grand gesture, just slips the top card off and hands it to Fjord, face-down. Fjord turns it over as Molly tells him, “The Hermit,” and is cut off by Fjord nodding,   
  
“Needin’ to make new choices an follow unfamiliar paths.” And Molly raises his eyebrows,   
  
“Well-versed in the fates, are we?” he asks, and follows it with a chuckle, “Yes, indeed, but The Hermit also symbolises a teacher, or a guide.” He leans over to lay his fingertips on Fjord’s hands, dramatic, “Soltryce, perhaps?” and Fjord hums, nods, Molly moves to Jester.   
  
“The Magician,” He hasn’t even pulled the card, but when he does, he’s correct, “Creativity and communication.” he tilts his head, “If I’m honest, I can only really think of your relationship with The Traveller when considering this card.”   
  
“Oh!” Jester exclaims, and pulls out her little book, “I forgot to write to him today!”   
  
“And there it is.” Molly smiles, and moves back to his own place but does not sit. His fingers twitch over his deck, and he pulls a card for himself, studies it for a moment.   
  
His fingers continue to twitch.   
  
He takes his own card between two fingers and uses his thumb to ease another out of the deck. Before it’s completely free, he turns to Caleb, takes a stride to close the distance. He holds the deck out, the partially-freed card level with Caleb’s hands.   
Caleb takes it carefully.   
Molly puts his card to the bottom of his deck and sits beside Caleb to whisper directly into his ear,   
  
“The Lovers.” Molly ghosts a hand up Caleb’s arm to his hand. His fingertips press gently into the bandages at Caleb’s wrist, as though he can feel the pulse through the thick layers. “Harmony.” With his other hand, he turns his deck so that Caleb can see his own card, Temperance. Caleb looks at it, startled,   
  
“Harmony.” he repeats, and the meaning applies to both cards. He feels Molly smile against his ear. The tiefling stands quickly, and moves around the circle with rushed, but natural flounce and dexterity, plucking each card carefully from the party’s hands and returning them to his deck.   
  
“Think on what the fates have told you.” His stage voice is back, and his eyes move to Caleb, “I’ll be taking your wizard now.”   
  
He crosses to the accused in three strides, and Caleb is on his feet, and then Molly is pulling him away to the closest treeline and out of sight.   
  
“They’re coming back, right?” Nott watches them go, and Jester laughs, a bubbling sound that makes Fjord and Beau smile with her.   
  
“Molly left his scimitars, I do not think they will leave.” And she grins, “Though perhaps the scimitar is not the sword Caleb will find himself impaled on tonight.”   
Nott looks confused. Beau loses it.

 

Molly’s fingers lace with Caleb’s as they move through the trees,  
  
“Mollymauk,” Caleb says, concerned, and Molly stops them beside the wide trunk of what appears to be an Alder tree, judging by the jagged leaf edges. Molly is dark in front of him, and Caleb feels at a disadvantage.   
  
He draws his hand back from Molly, and if it had been light, he would have seen the hurt flicker across Molly’s face.   
Then he whispers a few arcane words and makes a few easy, well-practiced gestures. Globules of light spring from his fingertips and hover around fifteen feet from one another in a square around them, and Caleb catches sight of Molly. He’s withdrawn, shoulders up, and Caleb crosses the space he hadn’t realised Molly had put between them,   
  
“I’m sorry.” And he places a hand, fingertips, to Molly’s shoulder. “I- I’m not quite…” He trails off, swallowing, and tries again. “I’m still a bit of a mess, if I’m honest. My injuries,” he gestures to the patch of blood that is still obvious on his shirt from the arrow that had become acquainted with both sides of his body. “I can’t really perform the _physical-_ ”   
  
“Oh, Caleb,” Molly’s eyes have widened, “Caleb, dear, no,” and he laughs, and Caleb is the one to pull back now, confused, “Caleb, my dear, my darling, my _love_ , no.” Molly steps in to wrap his arms around Caleb’s shoulders, gently. Then steps back, but leaves his hands at Caleb’s shoulders, lovingly, “I have more class than to ask for your first time in a forest. Especially as you are.”   
  
Caleb actually _snorts_ , and leans his head against Molly’s forearm.   
(It takes work, but it’s necessary.)   
  
“I’m sorry I made you worry.” Molly leans in to kiss Caleb’s forehead.   
  
“It is fine,” Caleb says, trying to sound airy, “I shouldn’t have assumed.”   
  
(His mistake rolls in his head on repeat.)   
  
Molly frowns at him, but it’s an affectionate expression, too.   
  
“Don’t get yourself caught up in it,” Molly tells him, then studies him for a moment. The frown melts away, and Molly smiles, “Do you dance?”   
  
“Dance?” Caleb echoes, as though he can’t quite comprehend, and Molly nods. Caleb frowns. “A little.” he tells Molly, and then Mollymauk’s hand is at his waist and in a blink, Caleb finds himself blundering through old memories of learning how to move with grace, he steps into time with Molly. They spin around the lit space, dancing over tree roots and through leaf litter, each second making it easier for Caleb to forget how much he’s messed up, and remember how to move as though limits mean nothing. Molly sends them into a twirl, their coats billow with the speed, and Caleb is laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.   
  
They are alone.   
  
Everything is right.   
  
“Can I kiss you?” Mollymauk asks, once they’ve slowed from dizzying to gentle, and Caleb is more shocked at the fact he isn’t surprised at all.   
  
“Please.” He replies, and Molly stops them moving so that he can lean in. Caleb feels a hand at his jaw, and the heat of Molly’s breath, and then he loses himself.   
  
It’s almost as though he falls out of his body, out of the world completely, and he slides- no, cascades- into infinity, he sees midnight blue and lavender clouds and feels explosions, electricity in every colour, seafoam, vermillion, pumpkin, every colour in between and forgotten.   
Molly pulls back and Caleb gasps for breath as he feels himself jolted back into his physical form.   
  
“Caleb, my love, are you okay?” Molly fusses, and Caleb draws the night air into his lungs,   
  
“For a moment,” he gasps out, “I- I- I wasn’t... solid.” and Molly tilts his head, confused. Caleb can’t explain himself, and he chases the feeling, presses his lips to Molly’s again. This time, he stays within himself, and the ache in his chest that he had almost forgotten about explodes and then dies away. Molly’s arms snake around his waist, and the moment stretches forever, and then is over again.   
  
Molly laces his fingers through Caleb’s and they begin the walk back to camp, because infinity cannot last forever.   
But, Caleb thinks, it will last for as long as he can keep his hands around it.   
  
And he tightens his grip.

**Author's Note:**

> in B4 "smut when"  
> my dick jokes seem forced and awkward because despite legally being an adult im a little baby boy who Can't
> 
> Anyway this is neither of the fics i promised?? sorry i was drawing Caleb and then fall out boy
> 
> I used to write super bad lame 'poetry' to siphon off my excess emotions and the strange way I experience the world, so Caleb's whole falling out of the earth thing is taken from that
> 
> (General note that like, i dont, experience like that so much any more bc im a broken baby boy but it still makes for good imagery ig)


End file.
